


The Payoff

by neevebrody



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-01
Updated: 2011-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-24 13:03:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/263793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neevebrody/pseuds/neevebrody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Anyone worthy to follow my journey may discover these secrets.  You will then see first hand how I spent my long hours here in the Valley of Rains." Minaeus made a slight bow and smiled again.  "Shall I offer you more incentive?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Payoff

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 2010 McShep Match for Team Work. Prompt: Against the Grain

The pathway leading to the source of the power fluctuation reminded Rodney of Harrison Ford's trek through the jungle in the only Indiana Jones movie worth mentioning – not that he'd seen the others. He'd taken it as a personal affront that M6H-387 had been in the Ancient database all along and yet they were just now exploring it. Hadn't they been seeking alternative power sources since arriving in Atlantis?

It was all Zelenka's fault, of course, as so many things were. Now that Rodney and his team were there, though, he was beginning to see it as just another abandoned Ancient outpost, and because the fate of two galaxies revolved around AARs, the pressure was on to find something to justify their trip.

Upon entering the main building of the complex, however, Rodney sensed that they might actually find something useful. The technology was familiar and, traditionally, the sheer size of the facility meant that it was a place of import.

Once the lab had been powered up, he'd put Hendricks to work with the databases and charged Drs. Sinclair and Tanaka with taking readings and running diagnostics and translations. For himself, he'd found an interesting array of control crystals and was busy cataloging them. Sweat dripped and curled around his neck, making him aware of the heat across the tops of his shoulders.

"McKay? Have you found anything yet?"

Rodney tapped his earpiece. "Working on it. We got life support systems up along with computers, but apparently, the Ancients forgot to install an HVAC. I'm hot, sweaty, and I just know these new uniforms are going to cha—"

"Yeah, well, it's no picnic out here either. So, no ZPM yet?" Sheppard asked.

Rodney rolled his eyes. "No, and there are no indications, at least from our preliminary readings, that we're likely to stumble across one here."

"All right. I was just thinking the quicker you figure out what this place does, the quicker we can all go home and grab a beer."

"Getting there," Rodney snapped and severed radio contact.

"Sir? Dr. McKay, sir?

Many of the crystals in the storage drawers were types he recognized until he ran across a cache that had a slightly different appearance. Rodney gently lifted one from the rack and turned it over in his hand.

"Excuse me, Dr. McKay, but—"

Rodney slipped the crystal back in place and took the next one in line. "Hendricks, I think it would be obvious even to you that I'm choosing to ignore you."

"It's Henderson, sir, and I think you should see this. I've come across some encrypted files in the weapons database."

Rodney turned to the scientist seated at one of the consoles; his face was tinged green from the low light and the glow of the display. They were getting younger and younger, and this one had 'incredible discovery' written all over his face. "Well, why didn't you say so?" He walked over and peered down at the screen, making sure Hendricks had properly docked his computer with the database. "Decryption should just require a simple translation code," Rodney said, waving at the computer.

"Yes, sir." Henderson made several attempts before Rodney used a body check to shove the young scientist from the chair.

After several sequences, a holographic image appeared in the center of the room, one much like the repository room in Atlantis. The image was that of an older male Ancient dressed in a white and tan sentry uniform. He had a distinguished look about him; the only thing that marred his otherwise handsome face was a discolored scar that stretched the skin tight from his left eye down to disappear beneath his jaw.

"I am Minaeus," the image stated. "Keeper of this compound. If you are able to view my image and hear my voice, you have successfully opened the first doorway in discovering the purpose of this facility."

As the Ancient continued to talk, Rodney made vain attempts to fast-forward through most of the history lesson, in which he learned that M6H-387, or Taeth, had been a weapons testing site in addition to serving as the Ancient equivalent of an armory. He idly thought of Sheppard walking his perimeter, oblivious to the treasures that might be under their very noses. The words "power sources" and "plans" jolted Rodney from his thoughts with a pump of adrenaline.

Minaeus' image took a step or two in the direction of the console, bringing a warm golden light with him. He appeared to be addressing Rodney personally. "You must, however, follow my paths to unlock the secret truths kept here in the Valley of Rains." The Ancient followed his statement with a sardonic if not challenging grin.

What paths? Rodney looked around then down at the database screen where a single Ancient symbol flashed teasingly. He was at once aware of the others hovering – that disturbingly prickly feeling that someone wasn't respecting his personal space. He looked up to find Hendricks and Sinclair standing there expectantly. Minaeus seemed to be waiting as well – his grin frozen in time.

"Don't you two have assignments? Hendricks—"

"Henderson."

Rodney squinted and waved his hand. "Whatever. Why are you still here?"

"This is my station, sir."

"Yes, well, it's my station now." Rodney waved at the tray of crystals he was cataloging. "You can finish that inventory."

"Actually, Dr. McKay, you're more proficient with the crystals."

Rodney stared at the young man, then looked down at the console. "Yes. Of course, I am... but I'm also more proficient with Ancient tech. Why don't you take, uhm..."

A woman spoke from behind him. "Sinclair, sir."

"Right. Why don't you and Sinclair here take one of the Marines and check to see if there are any other rooms like this in the building? Or anything else interesting for that matter."

"Shouldn't we stay together, Dr. McKay?" Sinclair asked.

Rodney turned to her and glared. She didn't look much older than Hendricks. "That's why I said to take a Marine. You have your lifesigns detectors, correct? We scanned the area before landing; it's deserted. You should be fine."

Henderson opened his mouth to speak but Rodney didn't miss a beat. "Questions? No? Good. And stay in radio contact," he added before focusing once again on the display.

Making the jump that the Ancient alphabetic symbol stood for a single corresponding letter, Rodney ran the translation program and dutifully pressed the key for the matching symbol.

Words and numerals began to appear across the screen. From the corner of his eye, Rodney caught sight of his scientists heading out but the nagging presence of the Marine was still there. The translation revealed an elementary mathematic quiz that Rodney mastered easily. He eagerly read the brief explanation of the facility's capacity and the description and number of the personnel. At the end of the translation, another symbol appeared. Sighing, he tapped the corresponding key on his computer. Another holographic image appeared.

Minaeus spoke of his days as a pilot. Rodney thought again of Sheppard as the Ancient described battling the Wraith and the sweeping exhilaration of flight. He idly wondered if there was a way to save or capture the hologram so John could see it. Minaeus spoke of his injury, received helping another pilot to safety, and how it had grounded him against his will due to problems with his vision and the scarring. That was how he came to be in charge of the facility. It was clear being grounded was a condition that deeply affected Minaeus. Years ago, Rodney wouldn't have had much sympathy. But now, there was something vaguely familiar in those dark eyes.

"However, my work at this facility was not all a sentence to be endured. I have left much of myself in the secrets kept here. You might even say my dreams are here and what I hope will be a considerable advantage for my people in their fight against the Wraith."

Those words had the hair on Rodney's arms standing on end.

"Anyone worthy to follow my journey may discover these secrets. You will then see first hand how I spent my long hours here in the Valley of Rains." Minaeus made a slight bow and smiled again. "Shall I offer you more incentive?"

As far as Rodney was concerned, his interest was piqued through the roof. Advantage over the Wraith was a concept sufficient to ensure he'd work as hard as necessary to uncover Minaeus' secrets. As Rodney was thinking, a three-dimensional schematic rose from the floor at the Ancient's feet and began to rotate slowly between them.

Unclear at first what he was viewing, Rodney's brain quickly caught up. Wings!

"Whoa."

The voice made Rodney jump and the image disappeared.

"Jesus, are you trying to kill me?" He stood there clutching his chest, face to face with a Marine, the name "Bowman" stamped above his breast pocket.

"Did you see that?" Bowman asked, staring at Rodney with wide-eyed, corn-fed fascination.

"Until you scared the hell out of me, yes." Rodney swiped at the display and fiddled with his computer but nothing would bring the image back. "Outstanding, Bowman, is it?"

"Corporal Bowman, sir."

"Well, Corporal, any ideas on how we might—"

Bowman seemed not to be listening; he pointed to the screen where another symbol was flashing. The symbol had changed color. Rodney grunted and sat down. He pressed the matching key on his computer, but instead of retrieving the hologram or even getting a further explanation, three small snapshot images appeared. The translation was only two words: _Find me_.

"What?" Rodney was all set to launch into a major rant when, looking closer, he thought he recognized one of the images as a small cornerstone they'd passed near the landing site. "Oh for..."

The corporal eased his stance. "Is there a problem, sir?"

Rodney didn't answer; he just tapped his radio. "Sheppard, do you read?"

"What's up, McKay? I know that tone."

"I need Lorne."

"Where are Bowman and Dunhill?"

"Dunhill's with two of my scientists and Corporal Kansas here is with me." He eyed the Marine whose smile never wavered.

"I don't underst—"

"I need someone with artistic ability," Rodney interrupted. "Unless, of course, you all remembered to bring your laptops along." As an afterthought, he pointed to the corporal. "Kansas?"

"Nebraska, sir," Bowman said, shaking his head. "I can't draw a lick."

"All right," John said. "When do we get to the part where you make sense?"

"That would be when I tell you that I've discovered some very interesting information about what this outpost was used for and have seen a _brief_ …" He cut a quick glance at the corporal. "…3D hologram of a personal-sized tactical aircraft, let's call it the love-child of an X-Wing fighter and a 'jumper. Do I have your attention now? Ears all pricked up... among other things," he muttered. A smile curled his lips picturing the look on Sheppard's face.

"Okay, so why do you need Lorne? Maybe I could—"

"Hello? Didn't I say artistic? You have trouble with hangman. No, apparently, the Ancient keeper of this place fancied himself to have a sense of humor. But he was also a pilot and there are references to secrets, one of which I believe might be the plans for such an aircraft."

"Sense of humor?"

"The hologram indicates there are clues hidden at three points on the planet, clues that will allow me to unlock said secrets. That's where Lorne comes in. I need him to transfer renderings of the sites to paper so you, Teyla, and Ronon can find them."

John's voice began to get that edge to it. "You want the three of us to search the planet? I think the heat's gotten to you, McKay."

"Of course not," Rodney replied. "We'll probably need another detail or two of Marines."

"I don't think so; Woolsey's already climbing my ass for status reports. If I ask him for—"

"Yes, well, either he wants to know what this facility does or he doesn't. Do you need me to make the request? Besides, I think I recognize one of the places. It's a cornerstone near the landing site; I remember seeing it. Maybe you could just fan out from there leading up to the lab. Of course, the quicker Lorne gets here, the qui—"

"He's practically there. Sheppard out."

~~~~~

Rodney resisted the urge to tap his foot while Lorne transferred the iconic clues to paper. "These aren't going to the Guggenheim, Major."

Lorne eyed McKay but, unlike Rodney, held his tongue. Taking a few steps back, Rodney activated his earpiece. "Sheppard. Almost done here. Now, I have no idea what to tell you to look for but there may be some sort of hatch or cover concealing the clue – whatever it is – and we could be looking for literally anything."

"Got it."

Lorne held the papers up, signaling he was finished. "Okay, the major's on his way to you."

"Negative. Lorne, stay there and keep an eye on things. Rodney, send Bowman. I don't know; the closer you get to this thing, I—just keep your eyes open."

~~~~~

Rodney kept busy with the tray of crystals while he waited. Then Lorne casually asked about the clock on the display.

"What?" Rodney asked, turning to give the Major an annoyed look.

Lorne pointed to the display. "You didn't notice you were on a time limit?"

Rodney flushed. "Of course, I noticed it. I was just going to radio and mention it, in fact."

Sitting back down at the console, he stared at the pale green numerals. It was a generous time limit if that was in fact what it was. Stray thoughts of a self-destruct mechanism and the possibility of losing the secret swirled hot in Rodney's stomach. But he could do this. Save the day with the clock ticking... all in a day's work... That was what he did.

Sinclair radioed in to report. "We can't get power to this part of the facility. Where we are now appears to be some kind of warehouse or store room."

"You have your DVs with you," Rodney replied. "Get some footage and then make your way back. I have a feeling we haven't seen the last of Taeth anyway."

"This place is huge, sir. It's stocked with something… they look like pods, stacked from floor to ceiling."

Rodney had a weird shiver flashback to old sci-fi films. "Can you open them, bring one back with you?"

Henderson broke in. "No, sir. There's some sort of shield protecting them. We can't figure out how to gain access or how it's operational with no power."

Sheppard's concern nagged at Rodney. "That's fine, Hendricks; just get what footage you can and report back here."

"It's Henderson, sir."

But Rodney had already moved on. Bowman had returned with rubbings from the three sites. Once again, the cues were symbols, but with a few odd characters Rodney knew were standard Ancient emblems that held a specific meaning. "Okay," he said, putting them in the order Bowman had handed them to him. "Let's see what we have... wait. How do we know what order to put them in?"

"Trial and error?" Lorne offered.

"Tick-tock, Major. No, there has to be a logical..." he trailed off and activated his radio. "John? Where were those sites found?"

Sheppard's voice sounded a little breathless. "Near the 'jumper like you said. Teyla found hers about fifty yards from there – it's the one with the most writing, I think, and the last one about the same distance beyond that. Is that important?"

"You mean why would I interrupt trying to decipher this clue with the clock ticking just to chat?"

"I'm sure getting grumpy is a big help."

Rodney was already past the conversation, rearranging the sheets, and performing the translation. He stared at the results.

"Rodney?"

Lorne leaned in and pointed at the screen. "It's a Rebus," he said. "You take—"

"I'm aware of what it is, Major. I just don't understand the purpose. Why not just encrypt everything with one code. One code, one answer. Presto, secrets revealed."

Lorne smiled at him. "Where's the fun in that?"

"Fun?" Rodney said the word as if it was a concept akin to movie science. "Oh, yes, because of all the outposts in all of Pegasus, I have to walk into the one kept by the whimsical Ancient."

"Lighten up, Doc," Lorne said, his eyes twinkling in the low light. "Beats slogging through a bunch of dry codes and formulas." He appeared to be trying to work out the puzzle.

"No. No, it doesn't. That I can do in my sleep, while dreaming of..." Rodney edged closer to peer at what Lorne was writing down.

"You think I'm enjoying this?" the major asked without looking up. "I could have taken a team of botanists to M7P-480."

"Planet Hayfever?"

"It would have been preferable," Lorne muttered.

Rodney shot him a look. "Really? Oh, I see," he said pointing to himself. "Preferable to having to work with me."

Lorne cleared his throat. "Harvesting tormack would be preferable, McKay."

Rodney thought about that for a moment. He didn't actually disagree. "Yes, but at least that would serve a worthwhile purpose."

"Guys! Am I still in the loop here or what?" John said, interrupting the banter.

"No… it's nothing," Rodney replied. "Just cool your jets. I'll let you know when we've got something."

"Well, when is that going to be, and what do I tell Woolsey when he asks for our ETA? McKay?"

Rodney hummed. "Can't talk now and you know I'm no good at definitive timetables." He glanced at the descending numerals on the clock. "Tell Woolsey whatever – tell him the prize is worth the wait. McKay out." He tapped his earpiece and, shaking his head, glanced at Lorne. "Fucking Woolsey."

Lorne's grin was very smug. "I think I've got it." He handed what he'd jotted down to McKay.

"What already?" Rodney gave the major a look and snatched the paper from his hand, a sour expression blossoming on his face. "You have got to be kidding me."

~~~~~

"Rodney, in case you've forgotten, it's hot as hell out here." It seemed as if hours had passed since the colonel's last check-in.

"Yes, Colonel Whiney, I'm aware, but I'm a little busy right now trying to retrieve hidden secrets and the final pieces of information Minaeus seems intent on dangling in front of me."

"Yeah? And how's that working out? Are you even trying?"

Rodney stopped what he was doing, got out of his chair, and began to pace. "Since you asked... let's see, so far, I've played the Ancient version of Turbo-chess – twice…" Lorne snickered behind him. "…good thing it was best of three. And, oh yes, I had to sing into some kind of Ancient recording device – some nursery rhyme or something, about fireflies and arrows. The program had to actually verify a cadence other than normal speech or risk having to start over. Jesus, how embarrassing—this is so not what I do. And you won't believe what I have to do next. I'm telling you, Sheppard, I've done everything but blow Lorne here to get at whatever this is."

"Excuse me?"

Lorne's eyes went wide and Rodney gave him a look he hoped would convey _not now, not ever_. "I just meant that the crafty old Ancient keeper is severely trying what little patience I have left by making me play his game."

"Maybe that's just what he wants."

"Okay, now who's not making sense?"

"Loosen up, McKay. I can hear you clenching. Go with it." John's voice softened and Rodney felt the warmth in it. "Anything we can do to help?"

Before he could answer, Teyla asked about the next task.

"I have to play Ancient Simon – Simon is an Earth game that… well, there are four squares of different colors that flash in a random pattern and you have to repeat or anticipate the pattern, sort of like—"

"Yeah, yeah; I'll fill her in. You have a playdate, remember?"

Rodney made a face he wished John could see. "Don't remind me," he muttered.

"Perhaps as Colonel Sheppard says, if you… went with it and had fun, you might get into the spirit of the contest. I am sure you will overcome all of these obstacles and retrieve whatever the facility has to offer."

In the back of his mind, Rodney could see the craft, Teyla's people, and the countless inhabitants of the worlds they'd visited – all those who could benefit from an advantage – any advantage. "Thank you, Teyla. I'll try. McKay out." When he turned around, Lorne was seated at the console. "Major?"

"You know, McKay, I used to be pretty good at this. Mind if I take a crack at it?"

Rodney blew out a breath and waved his okay. Lorne breezed through the first few rounds. As the patterns became more and more random, Rodney easily followed them, his agitation with Lorne's success and enthusiasm growing. "My turn now," he said, pulling up one of the other chairs and rolling Lorne out of the way.

The patterns once again shifted, temporarily putting Rodney off, but he caught up with the sequences as the pace of the game picked up considerably. It wasn't long before Lorne, Bowman and Dr. Tanaka were all cheering him on and Rodney needed both hands to keep up.

Abruptly, the game stopped. One of the colored squares continuing to flash on its own like a waiting cursor, and just then, Rodney's earpiece came to life.

"Anything yet, McKay?" It was Ronon. Rodney could picture them, giggling, taking turns taunting him.

"Not yet," he replied. "And if you tell me to lighten up or to have fun…" The colors began flashing again.

The squares lit up more slowly and Rodney felt in his gut this was the last sequence. He mimicked the pattern perfectly and waited. Data began scrolling across the Ancient display and there was a loud bump followed by a humming noise. He dismissed it as the air scrubbers or maybe the damn AC was finally kicking in – he was too busy making sure the data filling the screen was also downloading to his computer to be concerned with anything else. Specs for the aircraft and a set of blueprints were the first to load. The humming around them appeared to be getting louder.

John's voice crackled through Rodney's earpiece. He had an idle thought that there shouldn't be any static. "McKay? What did you do?"

"I did it… unlocked the code. I'm downloading data now and, oh my god, not only do I have the aircraft, I've got weapons and, Sheppard, you won't believe this, but—"

"Mini-drones?"

Rodney's back straightened immediately and he gave Lorne a worried look. "How the hell did you know that?"

"Let's just call it a wicked case of déjà vu. I've got men out here who don't have the gene, not to mention Teyla and Ronon. I'm ordering everyone back to the jumper, but—"

The sound was a roar now, causing the walls around them to vibrate. "Oh god. I hear it now. Oh god, oh—"

"Rodney? Listen to me. Whatever you activated, you've got to shut it down… screw the data, you've got people there, too."

"Right. But I didn't know, I mean I didn't activate anything, I—hang on…"

"What is it?"

"Just get your people back. I'm on it." His fingers were already busy on the keyboard.

Lorne stepped up beside him. "Everyone's accounted for, Doc. I sent Bowman. He and Dunhill have Henderson and Sinclair in a closed area." He indicated the screen. "A failsafe?"

"That would be my guess, just in case a non-friendly got too clever. Minaeus was jazzed about someone finding his secrets, but he made damn sure only the right ones found them."

"It's asking for another code."

Rodney took a deep breath and counted to ten. "I can see that, Major, only right now I'm fresh out of clues and ideas. Maybe the mechanism detected my decreased level of the gene or maybe…" He stopped mid-thought. The portion of the display containing the clock now had a blinking cursor. Minaeus was waiting. Rodney turned around, snapping his fingers. The part of his brain that raced past his mouth on overload. "We already have what we need… the letters."

Lorne eyed him blankly then smiled cautiously. "An anagram?"

"Bingo!" Rodney wrote down the letters he'd already entered as symbols to unlock the clues: T I H M R. He stared stupidly at the letters as the growl and whine continued to grow louder. Would the word be Ancient or…

"Mirth," Lorne said excitedly.

There was no time to argue; he quickly entered the correct Ancient symbols and held his breath. It felt as if the air had been sucked from the room. Time seemed to bend as one interminably long moment dragged into the next and the next and then the facility fell silent. He gave Lorne a pained smile and sank back into his chair, daring to breathe as he watched the data continue to transfer. "Jesus." He tapped his radio, heart still pounding. "Sheppard? Everyone okay?"

It took a moment, but John finally answered. "Yeah. Good work, Rodney. You?"

Rodney nodded. "Yeah, okay. We're good."

~~~~~

The door to the lab whispered open; he smelled the coffee immediately. John set a steaming cup and a thermos down on Rodney's worktable.

"Figured you weren't gonna be able to leave this alone tonight."

"Thanks." He took a gratifying sip of the fresh coffee, inhaling the aroma. "So, you like your present?" He might have puffed out his chest just a little.

"You think they'll let us keep it?" John asked with a hint of concern.

Rodney hadn't even thought of that. "Of course. This is a Pegasus thing." John's presence was like a soothing balm; so close the heat from his body pricked the hairs on the back of Rodney's neck. "That's why I'm making a few modifications before sending the plans in for approval."

"Hmmm, tell me about it," John said. His hands slipped over Rodney's shoulders; the kneading felt good after the rigors of the day. Fun for some, rigor for Rodney. He bent his head forward and let Sheppard's thumbs take away some of the knots.

"Well, this baby has a cruising speed greater than that of a Wraith dart, the design is compact but, like the 'jumpers, it's aerodynamic - cut to fit through the stargates. The capacity for the mini-drones is three _laches_ per _heliopod_ times four pods. Yeah, I know, but I've figured out that a _lache_ is a unit of measurement roughly equivalent to our dozen. I may be able to improve on that but, still, in a personal craft, that's some impressive firepower."

John may have groaned a little and he squeezed Rodney tighter. His hands were hot; Rodney closed his eyes and thought about them running the length of his body. That would be so much better than working kinks out of that one spot.

"I know what you're thinking," Rodney said. "Why no mention of this little gem in the database?"

John's voice was soft and low. "Actually, I was thinking of something else but, okay, why?"

Rodney spun around in his chair and came face to face with the buckle of John's belt and, oh, now _that_ was an impressive package. He kept his eyes forward as he explained that he didn't think anyone knew about the plans. "This was Minaeus' baby, and even if he had pitched it, he was an eccentric and bitter hermit who the Ancients probably didn't take seriously. I think it's even likely he was working on putting the craft together himself there on M6H-387, when he wasn't doling out armament like a one-armed paper hanger."

"But we can build 'em, right?"

He looked up and smiled. It had been a long day and every second of it worth that look in John's eyes. The look that was all eight-year-old innocence, cocky teenage swagger, and hot flyboy desire. "With my help, yes, we can build them," he said, running his hand up John's thigh. Rodney let his fingertips dip just underneath the heavy mesh strap of the thigh holster, dragging them slowly, the heat of John's skin bleeding through the cloth.

Rodney's protestations fell on deaf ears as John spun him back around. "This is the part where you get to _work_ ," John said above him.

"But I don't want to work _now_ ," he argued. Still, Rodney's hands instinctively found the keyboard as if it was magnetic and he had fingers of iron. "Would it help if I discussed drag coefficients? Touchpad maneuverability? How about a sexier design, ATA controls, and a way to squeeze another dozen or so mini-drones into a heliopod for more bang per blast?"

Rodney leaned into John's lips on his neck; they were soft and warm as they made their way to Rodney's ear, John's breath hard and uneven. "How long before we get a prototype?"

Rodney huffed a laugh. "I'm confident the SGC will move this to the top of the queue."

"Cool. Are you done yet?" John's teeth dragging across his earlobe sent shivers raining over Rodney's body, making him struggle for a response. But John pulled away abruptly before Rodney could answer. "Right. I'll leave you to it then."

Rodney turned to glare at him but John was already at the door of the lab. "Where the hell are you going?"

He got a smile in response and watched as John slid a hand seductively down his front, dangerously close to that delightful bulge – the light and shadow on the dark material seeming to magnify the definition – just shy of cupping himself.

"To wait for you," John finally said and there was something there in his voice, something that reached out to lick at the base of Rodney's spine, giving rise to own bulge. It was like caffeine to the power of ten, and he didn't need to be a genius to solve the equation at hand: completed work = mind-numbing, forget-everything-else sex.

~~~~~

Rodney set his cup down and pushed a stack of paperwork out of the way. The SGC hadn't been quite so generous with office space this time around. He watched the lights blink on the phone as he thought about John at the Mountain for the day. "Well, of course, you'll get to fly her first. That's why they asked for us, right?"

"They asked for you," John clarified, his voice a bit tinny through the speaker. "I just had some days coming and thought I'd tag along."

Rodney smiled at that. "And how touched am I that you chose test piloting a hot new plane over surfing?"

John laughed and the small space didn't feel so empty anymore. "It was a tough choice," he said. "I think it was the extra bennies that sealed the deal for me."

"Bennies?"

"Benefits, perks – like having a roommate for a few days." Rodney's stomach dipped at the low register of John's voice; it brought back the image of their bed that morning, John moaning, his back arched just so. Rodney had made it a point to put the "no service" tag on the hotel room door because he wanted to go back to that bed just the way they'd left it – rumpled and smelling of _them_. John had paid for his own room, but it was strictly for show.

"Did I tell you Sam said they were able to coax a little more velocity with the tweaks I sent?"

"Cool."

"Yes, you're welcome. I also made a few other suggestions for modifications," Rodney said smiling, feeling a bit too proud of himself. One of his assistants entered without knocking and Rodney snatched up the receiver.

"And…" John said on the other end.

"And I'll talk to you about that later; have to go now, some of us have actual work to do."

~~~~~

The thing Rodney loved most about secret bases was the silence. The winds blew cool now that the sun had squinted its last, leaving only a thin red-orange line between terra firma and the growing darkness.

Earlier, he and John had stood on the tarmac amid the brass and the crew of flight techs. With a little help from Samantha Carter, the SGC had indeed recognized the usefulness of Minaeus' design. Throwing a lot of weight and resources behind the project, the SGC, in conjunction with the Department of Defense and DARPA, had abandoned a conservative timetable for the production of a prototype.

"McKay, do you read?"

"Loud and clear," he replied.

"This thing flies like a dream. Airspeed and cockpit pressure at optimal but the inertial dampeners and support systems make it feel like sitting in your living room."

Rodney jotted a few notes on his clipboard. "What about the controls?"

"Shifting from ATA to manual is seamless; there's no discernable drag in the transfer—but you really have to be ready to grab her. The ATA controls surpass the 'jumpers’ and I didn't think that was possible. It's _flying_... like there's nothing but you and the atmosphere... you forget the craft is even there. It's fucking phenomenal."

Rodney adjusted the earpiece that was his own private link to John. "Of course, I can only take credit for the manual flight control."

"No, it's great. Can't wait 'til Ronon gets in one of these."

He smiled and wrote a few more notes. "Or Teyla."

After a moment, John added, "That was good thinking, McKay."

"Yes, I've been known to do that from time to time."

"Are we still a go for the weapons test?"

He turned to monitor the activity nearer the hangar. "Getting ready now."

"Thanks, Rodney."

John's voice and the brisk air raised the hairs on Rodney's body. He swallowed down the words crowding the back of this throat. There was so much there in that simple acknowledgement; it was weighted with more than just gratitude or even excitement. There was affection, respect, promise, desire. He'd seen that earlier in John's eyes when they'd done the pre-flight, and again after he'd finished the daylight tests.

It was also something they seemed to take for granted at times. Learning John had been a slow process, lots of fits and starts, but they'd gotten there. Rodney smiled to himself; the process had been similar to conquering Minaeus' funhouse: work but fun and decidedly worth the effort.

"Drone magazines."

Rodney looked up. "Excuse me?"

"I'm not liking the _heliopod_ thing," John said.

"Well, that was the best I could make out from the translation. What about drone pods?"

"Nah, I think it's the whole pod thing that's creeping me out. Drone magazines. I like that."

Rodney smiled and shook his head. John could call them any damn thing he wanted. What Rodney wanted was John naked, in bed, all wired from the flight, tight as a bowstring. What Rodney wanted was to take John higher and higher, to where there was no separation between them, into that thin air where it was hard to tell where one of them stopped and the other began. He shivered as a breeze took him by surprise.

"You know, we need to name the plane, too. Do you want that honor?"

Rodney raised his head to catch the coolness of the wind, picturing the look on John's face as that string snapped and John fell limp into his hands. "You take it," he said, turning to one of the crewmembers who was motioning to him. "I've been told I suck at naming things." He grinned and gave a "thumbs up" to the crewmember. "They're ready for you."

"Woo hooooo! Be home soon, McKay."

Rodney turned around and made his way to the safety of the hangar. "I'm counting on that, Colonel."


End file.
